


A coin can't have two heads

by LifeisIntriguing



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 10 years before aSiP, M/M, Younger selves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-31
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 14,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeisIntriguing/pseuds/LifeisIntriguing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft has been going out with Jim for awhile, they're happy and they love each other, but can The British Government really go out with London's top Criminal?</p><p>It jumps straight into the Angst. This is set about 10 years before ASiP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> UnBeta'd, first draft. Please enjoy, even if it's quite angsty.

“I hate this, I feel like I’m being bought out. I represent the British Government, how would they react?” Mycroft lay staring at the ceiling, ignoring the skinny body half sprawled over him. “Do you not think?”

“Go to sleep.” Came the replying soft Irish mutter. “We don’t discuss business in bed.”

“It’s been troubling me though.”

Jim groaned and rolled off of him, sitting up. “How are you being bought out? Through sex?” He looked indignant. “Do I tell you anything big in exchange for sex? Is this what you really think?”

Mycroft continued to stare at the ceiling, “No, but-“

“Do you believe that every time we’ve swore that we love each other it was all a lie?”

Mycroft blinked confused and then sat up. “Of course not!” He reached out for Jim’s hand. “James, I never expected this to happen, for our emotions to grow, even though we are so different.”

“We aren’t deep down.” Mycroft avoided his eye, staring down at their hands. Jim paused, “My.” He said nothing, “Mycroft.” He leaned over and gently tugged Mycroft’s chin towards him. “This, us, it’s important. Really important. My Holmes, you’re, my Holmes.” He gently kissed him on the lips. “Can we go to sleep now?”

Mycroft stared back at him emotionless, feeling lost and slightly betrayed by emotions. “I suppose.”

“You have something else in mind?” Jim raised an eyebrow slightly, “I thought we were just going to sleep tonight? I’d have had coffee.” Mycroft smiled, light finally falling back into his eyes. Jim was too good at making him react, he knew how to press his buttons. He still felt slightly disarmed by it. He was a Holmes after all and emotions and attachments weren’t their strong point.

“Yes, sleep sounds good.” Jim smiled, kissed him gently and curled up over him, dozing quickly off.


	2. Chapter 2

“Good morning, Mr Holmes!” Jim called as he entered the kitchen. It had become a bit of a tradition. Whenever they were dressed for work, they’d call each other “Mr Holmes” and “Mr Moriarty”. It also came to use by Jim during sex, Mycroft apparently rather liked it.

“Good morning, Mr Moriarty!” Mycroft smiled and accepted the morning kiss that went on for slightly longer than decent and ended up with Jim sitting on Mycroft’s lap.

“Well, that was a good breakfast!” Jim chuckled, resting a hand lightly on Mycroft’s shoulder as he stood up. He made himself some coffee and watched Mycroft carefully slicing up toast and eating with egg. He smiled fondly, “I’ll be back late, about 10?”

Mycroft looked up “Something important?”

“Nothing to worry about, you know I hate to cause you extra work.”

“Someone has to cause things that are more than trivial nonsense. I am at their personal beck and call, it’s nice to have something more than an ambassador’s wife has convinced the ambassador to withdraw or to refuse to eat at the peace negotiations. All gets rather boring at times.” Jim raised an eyebrow smirking. “Oh, go to work. My car will be here in 15minutes. I’ll talk to you this evening.”

Jim smiled, “Yes, Mr Holmes.” He winked and headed out of the door.

Behind him Mycroft’s smiling face fell. He felt more and more sure that he had to end this and the sooner the better. He glanced around at his things, scattered around Jim’s flat and sighed, maybe he’d been young and foolish. He sighed, “Oh Jim, must you have captured me?” He walked over to the front window and stared down at the street. He watched Jim climb into his chauffeur driven car and glance up at him smiling, he felt his heart skip a beat and cursed him. He couldn’t leave Jim, not yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Mycroft stared miserably out of the window as he was driven to work. He was really unsure what to do concerning Jim. He loved him, but he had to draw a line. His main problem was drawing it in such a way that Jim didn’t explode and destroy something.

He had a notebook out on his lap and he’d drawn a large “J” without thinking about it. He stared confused at it and then ripped out the page suddenly, folding it up and storing it away in his inner jacket pocket. Bringing his attention to the issue at hand, he quickly jotted down the security solution to send the Prime Minister for the upcoming meeting with the Danish Head of Intelligence. At least work could keep him occupied.

The day sped by, only slamming to a halt during Mycroft’s brief lunch break with a fellow worker. He was not one to discuss anything personal, nor did anyone dare to touch on that topic with him, but today, even Eric could tell something was amiss.

“Mycroft.” he said, genially shaking his hand in greeting. “How’s the latest situation holding out?”

“Eric. Back to your blue tie I see.” Eric frowned slightly at his response, but gestured for Mycroft to sit, which they both did. Mycroft gestured for a waiter to serve them and ordered a brandy. Eric ordered a small glass of house white and then stared meaningfully at Mycroft.

“Something on your mind, dear chap?”

“You know me, Eric. I never have fewer than 3 life threatening issues on my mind at one time.” Eric gave a half-hearted smile and despaired silently into his menu. “I think the salmon steak.”

“Sounds like a plan. You should come over for drinks some time. I’ve a lovely mini bar and a whole selection of fine whiskey.”

“How can one refuse an offer like that?” Mycroft replied, with his standard half smile. Eric barked a small laugh and raised his glass to Mycroft as it arrived. They chinked and Mycroft knew that decisions needed to be made that week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the huge delay. Un'beta'd.  
> This chapter is dedicated to TH.  
> The next two have been written, so don't worry, there will be more very soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Jim was already home when Mycroft arrived back about 8. He gave Mycroft a soft, warm smile as he looked up. Mycroft couldn’t help but smile back, place his briefcase by the door and cross the room in three strides, kissing Jim strongly, running his hands up inside Jim’s casual t-shirt and pulling him in close. He pulled back for a breather after a very long moment and straightened his tie.

“Apologies. I’m not sure quite what-“ Jim cut him off by sliding out of his t-shirt and running his hand through Mycroft’s hair as he chucked it on the floor. Mycroft gulped, resisted for as long as he could and then leant in, as desperate as before. Just as his suit was about to become a complete crumpled nightmare, Jim broke them apart.

“Mr. Holmes,” he murmured with a smirk. “Do I get the impression you missed me today? I’m very glad I cut the,” he paused, “cut the evening early to come home.” Mycroft murmured vaguely, whilst loosening his tie. “Now, now, Mr. Holmes, we don’t want to damage that suit, do we?”

Mycroft stood up uncomfortably, repositioning his clothes, “Care to lend a hand?”

“Not really.” Smirked Jim, standing, slipping out of his tracksuit bottoms and walking completely naked towards their bedroom. “Care to…lend a hand?” Mycroft smiled, carefully undoing every button on his jacket and shirt as he followed Jim. Suits needed love, it wasn’t to be underestimated. Nor, as it came to that thought Mycroft, did his love for Jim. He sighed slightly, but his heart raced as he laid eyes on the nude Jim, love made things difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't expect all chapters to be updated this quickly... 
> 
> Chapter is for TH.


	5. Chapter 5

“Myc, are you happy?” Jim asked to the figure curled around him out of the blue. “You know you’re the only person I’ve ever loved, right?”

Mycroft yawned softly into Jim’s back. “You’re the only person I’ve loved too.” Jim smiled and wriggled tighter into Mycroft’s embrace.

“I don’t know how I’d react if I lost you.” Jim yawned and sleepily continued talking. “Don’t like seeing you not happy though. Maybe it’s your job. We should talk sometime.”

Mycroft smiled as he drifted off to sleep too. His dreams were riddled with Jim, Sherlock, Eric and strangely his Mother, all in the National Gallery. Mycroft made a mental note to meet up with an old friend at the Gallery when he woke slightly between dreams. Somewhere in his mind, facts were trying to get out, but nothing made sense at the moment to Mycroft. Only time could tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one, but the next will follow in a few days.
> 
> Unbeta'd


	6. Chapter 6

Mycroft was woken around 4am when Jim's phone rang. Jim sped out of bed and answering it with a harsh "Speak", disappearing from earshot.

Mycroft lay staring into the darkness, shivered slightly and resigned himself to being awake for the day. He pulled the covers tight around himself as he sat up and turned on the bedside light with a small yawn. The fact that either of them could be called at any time was a downside to their relationship and definitely put a strain on it. A brief wonder of how different life would be if they both had 9-5 jobs, swiftly had him out of bed and heading to his study. 

There was no sign of Jim, which indicated he'd buried himself, at least momentarily, in his own study in the basement. Two floors apart was enough for the other to trust that they could work in private. Trust was such a missing thing in the house. They trusted the other's commitment and the rest just trundled on. 

Mycroft sighed and buried his head in his hands, their relationship couldn't work and he saw no logical way how it had so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, my life is constantly hectic, so it's just finding time to write. Hope you're still enjoying it and I'd love to hear some feedback. How do you think it's going to pan out?
> 
> I've actually written the next chapter so I'll type it and post it now too. UnBeta'd. Thanks for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

There was a soft knock at the door and Mycroft pulled himself together efficiently. "Come in." He called softly. Jim poked his head around the door, saw that Mycroft wasn't in the middle of anything and padded across the carpet to him.

"Something's gone wrong. A raid on a hideout. Lost some men and income. Can't concentrate." Mycroft's brow furrowed at the soft innocence in the words, it reminded him of his younger brother, also the small age gap between him and Jim. 

"How can I help?" He murmured in reply. Jim slid onto Mycroft's lap and traced a finger down his still naked chest. 

"Well, we're both still unclothed." Jim smiled hopefully and Mycroft leaned in for a soft kiss. Mycroft always had trouble refusing Jim when he smiled like that, he slid his hands down Jim's back and thought to himself that at the end of the day, this wasn't causing any harm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do let me know if you're enjoying it, doubt is one of a writer's two best friends. (The other is procrastination)


	8. Chapter 8

8

Three hours later, he was sitting in his work office, reading through the reports on the earlier raid Jim had mentioned. If he allowed emotions to affect him at work, then his stomach would have been plummeting and a small amount of despair creasing his brow. As it was, he was reading quickly and efficiently about the suspected terrorist cell that had been broken up. Further reading revealed a simple drugs den. The forensics report however registered a previously unknown drug compound. Mycroft couldn't help but be concerned. "Oh James." He muttered aloud. He really hoped that Jim wouldn't have any obvious connection to link him to the bust. He felt foolish just acknowledging the feeling of hope. He knew that Jim was clever enough not to be caught but still, if Jim were discovered, then he, Mycroft, could be implicated.

The risk had always seemed slim, but as doubts arose in private, so did his doubts of the longevity of anonymity regarding his partner. Mycroft stared lost in worry at the door opposite, his career meant everything to him. Tonight had to be the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think he can do it?


	9. Chapter 9

It took 3 knocks at the door for Mycroft to snap himself together enough to call "Enter." Eric sidled through the door and towards the desk.

"You alright old chap? Something on your mind?" When he received no response he continued speaking. "Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to drop by mine tonight for drinks after the Lord Mayor's dinner? There's always plenty to go over after that and I get to show off my drinks." 

Mycroft chewed his lip for a moment before responding. "I'd be delighted to accept. Just, Eric, no Vodka Martini's this time." 

Eric raised his eyebrow "Oh? We shall see. It'll just be the two of us, so secrets will be kept. Don't you worry. A good martini will do you marvels I'm sure."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit fruitier than ever intended. T, you bad influence.

"Just one more Brandy." Had turned into four more glasses of Brandy and then three Vodka Martini's. This had in turn led to Mycroft spilling everything about how unhappy he was with Jim, despite loving him. He'd naturally held back the fact he was a big criminal but had in fact told Eric that he felt it was a choice between Jim and Job. "Which quite frankly is ridiculous. I love my job more than anything and yet I can't say no to him. I wish that I'd fallen for someone at work. Not that I'm saying there aren't certain people I rather like." A hint of a blush crept over Mycroft's cheeks. "I just don't know how to break up with him and if I want to."

"Well," started Eric, refilling Mycroft's glass "It's no fun falling for someone you can't have." 

"Who?" Asked Mycroft draining his glass again and placing it on the table. 

Eric stared at him for a moment and then placed a hand on Mycroft's knee softly. "You." Mycroft stared at the hand on his leg and then up at Eric, he gulped questioningly. "Yes, always." Mycroft rested his hand lightly on Eric's. 

"I didn't know. I never.." He trailed off, still staring into Eric's eyes. Eric gave a small smile and leaned towards him. Mycroft hesitated and then met his lips. Eric was soft and eager, he'd waited a long time for this moment. 

They paused for a brief breath and Eric muttered "Are you sure?" Mycroft answered by kissing him harshly and sliding his tongue into Eric's mouth. Eric let out a small moan and shifted his body round. Mycroft slid a hand around his side, pulling him forward, towards him. Eric pulled back, "I, um." 

"Straddle." Commanded Mycroft and Eric didn't hesitate. Mycroft grasped at the back of Eric's shirt, he could feel so much pent up stress and tension being released and he loved it. Eric's hands were running through his hair as he kissed Mycroft forcefully and ground down on him. Mycroft wanted more so he slid his hands down and squeezed at Eric's buttocks in time with his grinding. Eric let out a small whimper of joy and frustration, sliding his hands down Mycroft's body to start undoing his belt and trousers. Mycroft batted his hands away to undo his own, allowing Eric to let himself free of his own restricting articles of clothing. A few bare skin on bare skin thrusts later and they were both panting. 

"Mycroft? Fuck me?" Mycroft groaned with want. 

"Not tonight." He panted bringing his hands down between them and pumping them both. Eric moaned loudly and crumpled against Mycroft's shoulder grinding and thrusting with all his might. Mycroft abandoned pumping to grip Eric's buttocks again, sliding his hands deftly under, teasing at the soft flesh through the tight trousers. Eric became undone, releasing hard with a shudder with a cry of "Mycroft!" Mycroft followed suit swiftly, squeezing Eric hard and letting out a loud groan. 

They panted against each other, holding tight. Eventually, Eric spoke, "You're welcome to stay the night. There's the sofa or my bed." He gave Mycroft a small smile, which he returned. 

Mycroft slid his hands gently across Eric's back. "Bed sounds lovely right about now." Eric leant forward and gave him a small kiss, then stood up, tucking himself back in and offering a hand to help Mycroft to his feet. Mycroft took it but as soon as Eric had turned away, he frowned deeply, this really hadn't been the brightest his brightest idea. He sighed inwardly and followed Eric to bed. Hopefully, a nice sleep would help and Jim wouldn't find out. He dreaded what Jim might do if he did.


	11. Chapter 11

Jim sat on the sofa, reading a book and wondering whether Mycroft was coming home at all. He knew he'd gone to the Mayor's dinner which was always long and hard work, but Jim hoped he'd then come back for a nice cuddle. Neither of them would openly admit that they enjoyed just holding on to another person but they did.

Jim sighed and headed downstairs to his study. Opening up a tracking program he knew he shouldn't, but he wanted to know where Mycroft was. Plus, since when did anyone stop him doing anything? 

He played spin and catch with a dart while he waited for it to locate Mycroft. It found him in an apartment that Jim wasn't expecting. He caught the dart point in palm and threw it angrily away in pain. A few searches later, he discovered that it belonged to a guy named Eric. Jim vaguely recalled Mycroft talking about some guy at the office called Eric. Boring, he thought. 

He switched the computer off and headed up to bed alone. He was sure that they were just talking over work and that Mycroft would be back the following night.


	12. Chapter 12

Mycroft awoke to an unfamiliar smell, he rolled over and groaned as his head seared groggily. "How much did I drink last night?" He muttered aloud. The figure next to him in bed wriggled, murmured incomprehensively and shushed him. Mycroft blinked sleepily at him, "Eric?" Eric sat bolt upright and then grabbed his head as the world moved too quickly. "Did I drink Vodka Martini's?" Eric nodded slightly and then rushed to the bathroom.

Mycroft stared at the ceiling and went through what he could remember of last night. He knew it had been a terrible idea and yet, he felt great. Maybe Eric was a good influence on his life. He glanced at his watch and got up quickly, heading to the bathroom to check on Eric. Once sure that Eric was fine, he continued to the kitchen, making some strong coffee and toast. 

Eric entered in just his boxers, giving Mycroft his first chance to properly look at his form. He was very lithe and outside of work, his shoulders had relaxed, his figure slightly slouched, it suited him and Mycroft half-wished that they weren't almost running late for work so he could get to know the body more intimately. 

Mycroft swallowed his last bite of toast and spoke as they always would at work. "My driver will be here shortly. I must change suits before work." Eric nodded, sipping at his coffee. "I shall see you later then." Mycroft stood up and headed to the kitchen door. 

"Mycroft." Eric blurted out, "Are you regretting last night?" He stared slightly nervously, waiting for the reply. 

Mycroft paused before turning back around. "No, Eric, I'm really not." He gave a wistful smile, nodded goodbye and left. 

Eric watched the empty doorway for a few minutes, before remembering the task at hand and heading to the bedroom to get dressed. He really wasn't sure what had happened, but he was feeling optimistic and that was what counted.


	13. Chapter 13

Mycroft felt glad that he had his own place as he headed upstairs to the bedroom. The last thing he wanted was Jim to see any stains on his shirt and tie, let alone on his trousers. He showered and changed quickly, his driver waiting for him outside and then headed straight for work.

He texted Jim to tell him that he'd be staying at his own place that night, owing to far too much work and then started reading through his notes from the night before. 

Mycroft had a phone call informing him of a routine IT check three hours into work. He sighed and agreed to clear his desk of all confidential papers straight away. There was a familiar knock at his door, he frowned. "Come in?" 

Jim confidently, portraying a nervous person until he'd closed the door behind him, sauntered in. He grinned cheekily "Good day, Mr Holmes. I've come to service your equipment." Mycroft raised an eyebrow. Jim crossed over to him, causing Mycroft to push his chair out and turn. Jim slid into his lap and kissed him. He whispered "I missed you last night and didn't want to not see you today too. Was it dreadfully tedious?" 

Mycroft smiled at him and whispered back "Work is work, Mr-" Jim cut him off with another kiss. 

"No name." He muttered, sliding a hand down and squeezing Mycroft through his trousers, smirking as he felt Mycroft react. He kept massaging, kissing him deeply. Mycroft knew this was a worse idea than the previous night, but he'd never been able to say no to Jim. 

Jim slid off of his lap, still kissing him and started to undo his trousers. Jim broke the kiss, stopped touching Mycroft and pulled out a tie as Mycroft let out a small, almost unheard whimper. Jim shoved the squashed up tie into his mouth, Mycroft's eyes widening in surprise and then set to work with his mouth on the cock in front of him. 

Mycroft bit down on the tie, desperately trying not to make a noise. Jim was far too good with his tongue and hands, thought Mycroft, watching best he could, hand entwined in Jim's hair, tugging occasionally as he reacted. Each joyfully received tug encouraging Jim further. It was, he thought, a disappointingly short time later that he was releasing into Jim's mouth, eyes rolling back, tie clamped between teeth and hand clenching very hard to Jim's hair. 

Jim swallowed quick as he could, pulled the tie out of Mycroft's mouth and shoved it back in his pocket. Mycroft's eyes were drawn to the prominent bulge in Jim's trousers as he stood back up. He reached forward and freed Jim's erection. He was already wearing a condom which amused Mycroft greatly and he spun Jim around, seating him on his lap. He pulled Jim's collar down and sucked firmly at the bare skin before rapidly pumping. Jim squirmed backwards into Mycroft, panting lightly and opening his neck up more. Mycroft renewed his sucking, causing a low groan to slip from Jim's lips. Mycroft clamped his spare hand over Jim's mouth causing him to buck hard as he released in surprise, shuddering all over and moaning against the hand. 

It was a couple of minutes before either of them felt able to speak. "Tea?" Muttered Mycroft into Jim's shoulder. Jim nodded and slid off of Mycroft's lap, allowing him to stand. Just as he was tucking himself in, there was another soft familiar knock at the door. He froze momentarily and then glanced at Jim, who slid under the desk to tidy himself up. Mycroft crossed quickly to the office kettle, switched it on, neatened his suit and then called "Come in." sightly croakily. He coughed hard, hiding the slight blush on his cheeks as Eric entered the room. "Ah, Eric." 

Eric smiled, "Mycroft. I was wondering if we could talk about last night." Mycroft frowned and shook his head. "Oh? It's just-" 

Mycroft cut him off quickly, "Hold on, Eric." He coughed slightly and called to Jim. "Are you nearly finished down there?" Jim knelt up by the desk, purposefully knocking his head. 

"Sorry, sir. Almost done." Jim ducked back under the desk, double checked his attire, banged the PC tower convincingly and then stood up. "I'll bring the replacement graphics card for you tomorrow, Mr Holmes. Apologies for any inconvenience." He nodded to Mycroft and skirted around Eric with a small "Sorry." closed the door behind him. 

Mycroft spoke crisply, "If you wish to discuss last night, bring your notes on the Lord Mayor." Eric frowned slightly, then glanced at the door with comprehension and nodded. Mycroft glanced at his watch. "We can discuss it over lunch, meet you in the cafeteria and bring sandwiches here?" 

Eric smiled "Certainly, I'll see you at one then." He headed out of the office, glancing around for the IT guy who was thankfully nowhere to be seen. Still, he thought, Mycroft was quite right to be safe like that, the folks from IT were terrible gossips. 

Mycroft sighed as he poured himself tea. What a complicate mess he'd gotten himself into. He wondered if there was any way to continue with them both. Eric at least knew he was the other man in Mycroft's life, but that didn't console him. He sat at his desk sipping tea and pondering the matter. Eric was most definitely the better choice, but how to leave Jim? Mycroft placed his cup gently in its saucer and dropped his head into his hands. Why did he ever get involved with Jim in the first place? He was so explosive!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've slightly spoilt you over the last couple of days, owing to free time bored in a moving vehicle. Hopefully, I can update tomorrow. Please feedback, it's my favourite kind of email. Who should Mycroft choose? Either?  
> Unbeta'd, thanks for reading.


	14. Chapter 14

For the next few days, Mycroft acted as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Eric took the subtle hint not to invite Mycroft back again and Jim didn't sneak into his work. Everything was as it should be.

\----- 

It was 5am on a Sunday morning. They had both arranged a "day off", that is to say, scheduled nothing, but Jim's phone woke them. He groaned and ignored the call, but it rang again. "What?" he barked. There was silence and then he drawled "What the fu-" Mycroft's phone rang cutting him off. They stared at each other before each rushing to their studies. 

A silence fell over the house that day. Even Jim was against killing children. A hit on an emissary had gone wrong, only injuring him but killing his first born. 

Mycroft, naturally, had been on the phone non-stop all morning. It was one of those days which shouldn't exist and especially not when he'd been "relaxing". It also meant that his tightly guarder temper was close to the surface. He turned off his phone and headed to the kitchen. 

Jim glanced up at him, cold cup of tea on the table, barely drunk. He was in shock. He also knew that his relationship with Mycroft was getting harder to hold onto. "Myc?" he croaked. 

"No." he replied calmly, boiling the kettle, preparing a teapot. 

"Myc, I'm sorry." 

"No, James." Mycroft refused to look at him, placing two cups down firmer than was needed and Jim broke into tears. 

"It should have been simple. I didn't- Believe me." 

Mycroft turned calmly as the tea brewed. "You're not supposed to create my job." Jim crumpled into his arms on the table. Mycroft flashed back to a memory of his brother growing up and discovering Mummy wouldn't allow uranium experiments in the greenhouse. He took a step towards Jim and with a sigh, sat down. "James. Jim. The matter is in hand." 

"No, it isn't." Jim replied into his folded arms. "This is going to take days to rectify." He looked up at Mycroft with streaming eyes. "I really didn't intend- He's been fired. I just-" 

Mycroft slid his chair backwards and held out a hand. "Come." Jim straddled him, holding him tight. Mycroft looked slightly surprised but spoke softly, "I'm here for you today." 

\----- 

It was evening before either of them surfaced again. There was still an awkward silence in the house. Mycroft began making a simple supper and knew that Jim would be drawn by the smell. He crept into the kitchen as it was being dished out. 

"Smells great, Myc." Mycroft smiled at him, he'd always maintained that no emotions were superior and today just emphasised how he despised them. All he could think was how he should leave Jim and tomorrow seemed ideal. He wouldn't be so cruel as to do it on the day Jim needed him most. Mycroft was torn from his thoughts as Jim spoke quietly, "Need a new sniper now." 

"James, we cannot talk work. You know that." Mycroft avoided his eye and after a small sigh, "Moran, Sebastian." Jim looked at him in surprise. "You did not hear that name and you did not hear me utter it." Jim teared up again. 

"I love you, Mycroft." he gulped and tucked into his food. Mycroft said nothing in return, merely sipped a glass of wine, his mind was elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry it's been so long! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Well, probably the wrong word considering it's an angst fic.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Unbeta'd. (And partly written whilst I was dozing off on a bus)
> 
> Please do comment! Favourite emails ever when I get a comment!


	15. Chapter 15

Mycroft woke first the next day while it was still dark out. He'd received a text from Eric, informing him of an 8am meeting with MI5. He was glad it was so late. It allowed him time to start packing up his study. Today, he had to leave Jim. There was no going back.

He crept out of bed, Jim mumbling in his sleep and rolling over, burrowing into the pillow. Mycroft smiled, it was times like these that he loved Jim most. When Jim was calm and not plotting. One would hardly believe as he muttered about cabbages, that this young man was climbing the rungs of Britain's most wanted. 

He sighed and headed to his study. The boxes he'd moved in with had been stored to the side of a filing cabinet and he efficiently packed them until only his computer and pen pot remained. He stroked the leathery section of the desk with affection. It had served him well. 

About 6am, he smelled coffee being made downstairs and with a deep breath, he headed to the bedroom to get dressed. Mycroft Holmes, an essential pawn in the British Government, unafraid to face any obstacle, minister or foreign dignitary, was a little bit scared to face Jim and tell him it was over between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but I couldn't write more. I'm caught up in "No, no, no Mycroft, nooo.."
> 
> Unbetad, thanks for reading. 
> 
> How do you think Jim will take the news?


	16. Chapter 16

Mycroft left the shower, towel wrapped neatly around his waist and stopped suddenly. Jim was lying naked on the bed and aroused. Fuck, he thought and gave up any restraint against having sex with Jim one last time.

\--- 

Half an hour later, Mycroft rushed into the kitchen, throwing some bread in the toaster and boiling the kettle. His car was arriving in ten minutes and he had no wish to be running late or still in a relationship when it arrived. 

Mycroft was sipping tea and leaning against the counter when Jim entered wearing only boxer shorts. Mycroft had no idea how to start the break up, none whatsoever. He was very surprised when Jim spoke first. 

"You're breaking up with me aren't you?" 

"Yes." He replied simply, cup frozen in front of his mouth. 

"You should probably drink that." Jim strode past him and poured a coffee from the pot. "I can't say I'm surprised. I suppose the kill was the last straw." 

"James." Mycroft started, but was silenced with a curt shake of Jim's head. The situation felt all wrong, Jim was up to something. 

"No need to say anything, Myc. Absolutely no need, in fact, so say nothing." Jim sat on a chair at the table, after scraping it further than needed just to annoy Mycroft, then put up his feet. "Myc. You know, I can't let you leave me." He shook his head slowly with a mocking pout. "It's not going to happen." 

There was a knock at the front door, breaking the silence that had fallen and Mycroft jumped, spilling a little tea on his tie with a small groan. He drained the cup and headed towards the door. 

"We shall discuss this later, Mycroft." Jim spoke as his foot crossed the threshold of the room. Making him freeze. Mycroft did not like the tone of his voice at all. 

He said nothing, heading out to his car and towards the meeting. His mind was really not on work today. This was why caring was such a disadvantage and boy did that truth echo in his mind today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, thanks for reading. Sorry if it feels rushed!


	17. Chapter 17

Eric cornered Mycroft at lunchtime in his office. He'd bought lunch and locked them in. "What's going on, Mycroft?"

Mycroft tried to look confused but with a small sigh, leant elbows on his desk and ran his hands through his hair. "Is it that obvious?" 

Eric nodded and held out a sandwich. "You didn't even correct Matthews when he used the Belgium dignitary's name instead of Portuguese. Nor did you say more than ten words in that meeting at 8 or 10.15 actually." 

"Yes, well, even I can get caught up in private affairs occasionally." Mycroft rose from his seat and switched the kettle on in the corner. 

"Your brother again?" Mycroft frowned slightly, he almost wished it were. "Then who?" asked Eric, confused. 

"My partner." Mycroft said after a slightly longer than comfortable pause, voice catching as he actually confirmed the relationship out loud. "I can't really talk about it here." 

Eric's brow creased with concern. "I understand. Come over to mine tonight." Mycroft looked straight at him, eyes wild and showing more emotion than Eric had seen in the last year put together. He found himself falling slightly (more) in love with Mycroft, seeing him out of perfect control. "Please, you need a break. When do you get off today?" 

Mycroft nodded slowly, knowing it was a terrible idea. If Jim were to find out.. "I can be free from 3pm." 

"Great!" Eric replied, slightly too enthusiastic. "Shall we say quarter past?" 

Mycroft nodded again, feeling repetitive and a little pathetic. He hated every second of these emotions. Emotions be damned, he thought, Mycroft Holmes was afraid of no one man. He was going to do as he thought best and offloading a little with Eric and a small brandy, would be lovely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rare occurrence! An update so soon after another! Just a quickie, but hopefully, I'll be able to write the next one tomorrow!
> 
> Unbeta'd, thanks for reading.


	18. Chapter 18

Jim sat at home in silence at his desk, staring at his computer. Mycroft was at his friends house again. Mycroft wasn't a person who had many friends. He kept everyone as an acquaintance, everyone except Jim. Was he being paranoid to suspect Mycroft of an affair? Mycroft was loyal in the extreme but perhaps there were two reasons to want to break up with Jim. He pouted in annoyance, he wouldn't accept an affair. Everyone should be unerringly loyal to him.

\------ 

Mycroft sat on Eric's sofa, cradling a small brandy and avoiding his eye. 

"Well?" Questioned Eric after it became clear Mycroft wouldn't speak first. 

"I need to break up with my partner, I tried to break up but he.." Mycroft trailed off. "He won't allow it." 

"Well that's just poppycock! You're your own man. He doesn't own you! Move out. You've still your own place, right?" Mycroft stared into his brandy, staying silent. "Mycroft." Eric moved to sit next to him on the sofa, placing his glass on the little table. He shuffled round so he was at an angle and then beckoned to Mycroft. "You need to relax, come here." After a pause, Mycroft gave in. He felt safe with Eric and a cuddle could cure many things. 

"Thank you, Eric." mumbled Mycroft, buried in Eric's shirt. 

Eric smiled and took the brandy glass from his relaxing hand, placing it on the side table. "Anything for you." He almost whispered. 

"Hm?" Mycroft questioned, unsure he'd heard correctly. Eric coughed slightly in embarrassment, turned red and repeated his sentence. Mycroft nodded, "Yes, I know. You like me. That's rare." 

Eric scoffed, "That's not true! Everyone likes you." 

"Everyone needs me. You like me." 

"I need you too." 

"... Eric..." 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said. Forgive me." 

Mycroft said nothing. Then, after a short pause he sat up. Eric's brow creased with worry, had he pushed too far? Mycroft ran a hand through his hair, he leant across Eric and picked up his drink, draining it and placing the glass back on the table. Eric had tried to press himself against the sofa and become invisible. He may like Mycroft but he was still daunting, which is why, when Mycroft suddenly kissed him, he jumped. Mycroft smiled and kissed him again, less suddenly. It quickly devolved into fumbles with buttons and zips, pressing against each other, Mycroft feeding urgency and desperate need into the mix. Eric was happy to oblige, he wanted all the Mycroft he'd could get. 

"Take me if you want." He murmured into the kisses and Mycroft moaned with want. "Bedroom?" Mycroft assented and stood up, not wanting to break contact, because he feared the second that happened, he'd run away. He couldn't run from two men in one day. 

The sex was pleasurable enough, they'd both been more than wanting it. Rough, sweaty and messy, the need to be lost in it, taking over from control and great lovemaking. Neither cared and now, they both lay panting, hands held. 

Mycroft thought over the afternoon and knew he should regret it, but he didn't. All he regretted was not being firmer with Jim about splitting up. He was ready to enforce it now. No one man scared Mycroft Holmes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the tensions!
> 
> Unbeta'd, thanks for reading. 
> 
> Feel free to say hi on Tumblr: Inmyappledore or Twitter: @lifeintrigues


	19. Chapter 19

Two days later, a fuming Jim banged loudly on Mycroft's front door. He'd had zero contact from Mycroft and refused to believe they'd broken up. He wasn't usually into such public displays of emotion, but he couldn't reign it in anymore.

After a minute, Mycroft gingerly opened the door with the chain still on. "James, I am only letting you in if you agree to discuss matters calmly." 

Jim stared at him, right fist clenching and unclenching, then nodded. Mycroft nodded too and shut the door briefly to undo the chain. Jim stepped through the now open doorway with a quick glance around the area to see if anyone was observing them. 

Mycroft was dressed casually, that is to say, he had no tie or jacket on and his top two buttons were undone. Jim bit his bottom lip with worry. Mycroft was looking rather worn out. 

"Coffee? Tea?" Mycroft asked from the doorway to the kitchen. Jim shook his head. "Something stronger? Brandy?" Jim's eyes widened in surprise and gave a small nod. Mycroft crossed to the drinks table instead and poured out two brandies. He paused before handing Jim's over and muttered "Savour it." 

"Myc? Are you okay?" Jim's anger had abated seeing Mycroft so forlorn. Mycroft sat himself in an armchair, crossed his legs, sipped his brandy and said nothing. Jim sat down on the sofa with uncertainty. He was wearing casual clothes too, jeans, undone shirt and a leather jacket. He knew he looked great in it, so couldn't blame Mycroft for his eyes lingering on his thighs. His jeans were very tight after all. 

"Please say what you've come to say, James." 

"Are you okay? I've not heard from you. Not a single text. You don't look great." He paused. "Are you drunk?" 

"Possibly slightly." Mycroft sighed, running a hand over his face, made to stand and failed. "Look, you've made my job rather difficult. I can't "go out" with you anymore. I can't be seen with you. You're trying to become the crime lord of London and I'm becoming a fundamental part of the inner workings of the government. I'd never give out secrets unduly, but if people find out they'll assume it. I can't be having it. So, you, the thing in my life previously creating the most happiness must go." 

Jim chewed his lip. "Be honest with me." Mycroft stared at him. "I know you're seeing someone else. That Eric." Mycroft laughed into his drink. "It's not funny, Mycroft. If I can't have you then no-one else can." 

Mycroft stood up, using the arm of the chair as balance and crossed to the mantelpiece. "Well, James, I did have sex with him and I greatly enjoyed it. He wanted it very much and I was happy to oblige. Now, if you'd kindly leave, I've some more drinking to do before I retire for the night." 

"Let me see you to bed? One last time?" Mycroft's arm slipped off the mantelpiece and he staggered. Jim leapt from his seat and held him upright. "You bring out the best in me, Myc. You honestly do." 

Mycroft slipped an arm around his neck and steered them both towards the doorway. "Perhaps in private, Mr Moriarty, but you lack human decency in every fibre of your body when at work." 

Jim bit his lip to prevent retorting, it was all true. "You are mine though, Mr Holmes. I won't let anyone get in my way, not Eric, not even your baby brother. You're mine. Eric better watch his ste-" His threat got cut off as they both stumbled through the doorway. "How much have you bloody drunk?" Jim demanded, but Mycroft shrugged. 

"Ran out of whiskey before you arrived. Take me to bed and ravish me." Jim's eyes widened in shock, before leading him safely up to bed. For the smaller of the two, he managed Mycroft's weight well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, apologies for not updating quickly. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, unbetad.
> 
> Edit: Would Anyone be interested in me writing a post or two about the reasoning of this fic and how I perceive Jim/Mycroft to have got together originally? 
> 
> Also, if you are or know any Sherlock fans in/near Cardiff, my friend is running a quiz in July. Tumblr URL: sherlockquiz - they're also running a comp to name it. There will be a prize, though its undecided currently I believe.


	20. Chapter 20

Jim had stayed the night, letting Mycroft hold him. Generally, they just lay by each other, which was nice, being near but not suffocated or too affectionate. That night however, Jim knew Mycroft needed it. Mycroft drunk was such a rarity that Jim had only witnessed it twice, once because of his brother and the other, well, he'd promised to take that to the grave.

He woke first, unsurprisedly so and wriggled around in the bed. He sat cross legged, Mycroft still dead to the world, and observed. He hadn't expected it to be so easy to end up back in Mycroft's bed. He'd missed it. He'd missed the being able to lie by someone and not worry about, well, anything. The silent acceptance of who he was, however different. 

It was a good half an hour later that Mycroft blearily stirred and looked up at him. "James?" Jim smiled simply back. Mycroft put a hand to his head and silently groaned. "Could I trouble you to make some- Perhaps just iced water?" Jim grinned and set off downstairs. 

Mycroft waited until he heard Jim near the bottom of the stairs and smiled to himself. James Moriarty was hardly the only one who could act. He sat himself up slightly in bed, then fell back into character. He yawned, he'd slept longer than he'd intended. His driver was arriving at 9 after all. 

Jim returned with two glasses of iced water and handed one over. "Myc, I'm going to head off. I've a meeting in an hour and I need to change." He leant in and gave Mycroft a soft kiss. "Take care of yourself." Mycroft gave a small smile and nodded, wincing a little as Jim turned and left. 

The second the front door had closed behind Jim, Mycroft jumped out of bed and showered as fast as he could. He needed to talk to Eric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last two chapters are such an example of where I, as the writer, yell "What are you doing that's not what I said?!" And then reshuffle some thoughts in my head about plot structure. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, unbetad like always these days. Please do comment, I love comments with a passion.


	21. Chapter 21

Eric had turned pale and sat down abruptly as Mycroft explained that his ex-partner might be about to start coming after Eric's blood, possibly to bathe in, he wasn't sure, as soon as he realised Mycroft wasn't still his.

"Mycroft, be a good chap and pour some brandy?" Eric fell to formalities in times of crisis. He'd been brought up well, attended Eton, made his family proud, achieved all that had been expected of him up to this point. Well, apart from lacking a wife. 

"I am sorry, Eric." Mycroft poured two large brandies and perched on the sofa. His words sounded hollow, despite his sincerity. "We could get you relocated. Promote you to a post abroad." 

"I'm not going to run from my life here. London is my home." He drained his brandy with a slight pause to savour it. "I understand if you feel we must stop, whatever we have become, but I care about you and if your partner cared about you like I, he'd let you go." 

"He's obsessive and borderline psychopathic, he won't let me leave him for anyone else. He will have you killed." Eric stared down at his empty glass of brandy and then around his flat. Silently he stood and poured another glass. 

"Mycroft, I know you mean well, but at this time, I am staying put." Mycroft nodded and held out his hand. Eric took it and sat gently on his lap, he took a sip of brandy, placed the glass on the table and then wrapped an arm around Mycroft. "Now, you listen to me, Mycroft Holmes. I am not worth worrying about. You concern yourself with the upkeep of Britain and I'll look after me." Mycroft felt all power drain from him as self-control was removed. He leaned in with a sigh, relaxing despite himself. Eric smiled despite the drama; Mycroft being so human and friendly was rare and a pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me folks. I actually wrote this chapter weeks ago but didn't like it so got Beta'd by Maddi. Thanks Maddi. 
> 
> Remember the quickest way to ensure that I actually update this and all my writings is to tell me to write it.


	22. Chapter 22

Jim had been satisfied that things were okay between him and Mycroft so went about his day enthused.

He wasn't sure why he did it, but he decided to finally act on Mycroft's sniper advice and sought out Sebastian Moran, ex-military, in a Greater London rifle range. Jim was a bit rusty, rarely ever holding a gun, let alone firing one, so a handy sniper teacher was a great way to introduce himself. 

As introductions went, this one was a bad one. The range was empty apart from the two of them, the guy in the shop and a cleaner secretly doing drugs in the bogs. Moran had a handgun and was casually firing it at cutouts that showed a human shape by the lack of paper in the persons vicinity. Jim stood to the side until the round was empty and Moran finally looked at him. "No." He reloaded and gave the cutout some devil horns. Jim fumed silently before marching up to the booth next to Moran, waited for the gun to be unloaded and climbed over the barrier, standing in front of the next booth. "Are you fucking insane?" Moran yelled. 

Jim stared back silently, refusing to budge. Moran leaned forward and tried to grab him, but he stepped lithely back. 

"Don't be a little shit. You could cost me my job. You really want lessons? I'll give them ye. First, I'll shoot you. Second, I'll burn you. Third, who the fuck gives a shit. Get the fuck out of there." He jumped over the barrier and all but lifted Jim up to eye level. Jim remained silent. "What's your game you little punk?" 

Jim opened his mouth and whispered "Murder." Moran looked confused. "Prove your worth, sniper. I'll triple your salary if you succeed. " Moran stared at him before bodily lifting Jim up by his jacket and dragging him to the barrier. Moran jumped back over with ease and watched disdainfully as Jim clambered back over too. Moran stalked away and slammed the office door behind him. That, Jim surmised, was not the reaction he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> So we meet Moran. Was that what you expected? What do you think he does next?


	23. Chapter 23

Jim liked to think himself above menial asking, but after 5 minutes of no movement from behind the closed door, he knocked and asked to go in. There was a vague murmur behind the door, so he entered. Moran was sitting behind a desk with his feet up on it, pointedly ignoring him, chewing on a pen and attempting a crossword.

"12 down, 7 letters, blank A blank etc. Rear guard." Moran asked, without looking up. 

"Cavalry. Though, I believe trousers work too." Moran looked up at him with contempt. "It's a joke. You should try it sometime. At least smile.." He tried to weasel his way in. He felt very much on the back foot, though he was amazing at not showing it. 

"You're a cocky, little idiot who isn't worth my time. Even if you tripled my salary, why on earth would I want to work for you?" 

Jim clenched his jaw. "Well, if you don't want to be able to shoot actual people, rather than pathetic pieces of paper that require no skill, you shouldn't. I was clearly misinformed about you." Moran threw his crossword aside and sat up straight with a glower. Jim shrugged and headed towards the door, his hand reaching out for the handle as he remarked "Bet you've lost your nerve anyway." Moran jumped out of his seat and flattened Jim against the door, face first. Jim grinned widely and let out an aroused sigh. "I say, soldier boy." 

Moran growled into his ear "I've got more spunk in me than ten of you would have. I'm not interested. You got that?" Jim nodded, biting his lip to stay silent. "Good. Now bugger off." 

Jim opened the door and stepped lightly through it, turning back with a soft "So, that's no to the lessons too?" The door slammed shut and he giggled to himself, Moran would come around. He skipped back to the shop and handed the counter guy a business card with a soft "When you next see him, tell him I'd love to have another lesson." He laughed to himself as he headed home, he'd have a call within the week, he just knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, sorry for the delay! Thanks for reading. Joyfully, this and the following two chapters have been glanced over by the lovely Maddi and so, you'll have them soon. Well, I can't spoil you too much, can I?
> 
> What do you think of Moran?


	24. Chapter 24

Mycroft had spent the following day phoning people and calling in favours. He had a backup scheme falling into place if things turned sour with Jim. He had little experience of break ups but he knew without falter that Jim was explosive. He had asked Eric to not disturb him at work but at 2pm, his office door was thrown open and a fuming, skinny figure stormed to the desk. Mycroft swiftly turned his computer screen off and with a sigh greeted Eric.

"Don't you "Eric" me, Mycroft Holmes. You had security assigned to me!" Eric slammed a letter on Mycroft's keyboard and sticky keys' beeping joined in the furore. Eric stared at him, jaw clenching. "I told you I'd look after myself!" 

Mycroft adjusted his waistcoat and relaxed in his chair. "It was necessary." 

"Necessary. Necessary?! I very clearly told you not to interfere, Mycroft. I will look after me, I said. I will look after me!" Eric turned around, emotion bubbling out of him, refusing to let him stand still. "I do not need you or the bloody spies watching out for me." His voice cracked and he realised that he hadn't shut the door, as he looked around the room attempting to regain composure. He shut it slowly and leaned his head against it, once shut. "Mycroft, I am sorry for that, I understand that you were only trying to help. Now, please, reverse that order." 

Mycroft stood and crossed around his desk, leaning against the front. "Eric." He said calmly, "Trust me when I tell you that you need them. Ja-" Mycroft froze, coincidentally as Eric sniffed, he'd never come so close to uttering that name to another living soul. "Just accept the extra security in your life and I shall not to interfere anymore unless something happens." Eric stepped away from the door and crossed to stand in front of Mycroft, avoiding his eye. Mycroft tentatively reached out a hand and placed it lightly on Eric's shoulder. "All will be well." 

Eric looked up at him at last, eyes trying their hardest to not spill a tear but failing. "I am sorry." He tried to compose himself. "I find that I am not responding to the possible upset in my life very well. Especially as things seemed to be going so well with you." He straightened his tie and tried to ignore the hand on his shoulder. 

"Eric." Mycroft softly replied, removing his hand. He had a feeling that a "normal" person would take this opportunity to kiss Eric and help heal a wound, however, Mycroft slid back to his chair instead. He registered the slight hurt in Eric's eyes. 

A loving partner would have hugged or try to soothe him, but then, Eric had always known that Mycroft was not the loving kind. As he turned on the spot, he reflected on that thought: If Mycroft wasn't one to love, then why was he putting up such a fight to end it fully with his (sort of) ex-partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Eric....


	25. Chapter 25

Mycroft had been slightly disturbed by Eric's outburst, but thankfully it hadn't happened again. Eric still refused to allow the security, so Mycroft had installed an undercover agent in the house opposite. All was reported as well but it was time to meet with Jim again, this time, they were meeting by the river for a chat. The status quo was sure to go wrong.

Jim was already seated on a bench when Mycroft arrived early. He couldn't help but smile. In the days they'd first met, they kept trying to be the one who arrived first, to the extent that they once both arrived a day early. 

"Mr Holmes." Jim smirked. 

"Oh come now, Shrew." Mycroft replied. It had been a longtime since code name times, but it felt correct. Jim, having already said Mycroft's name would not dare to use his code now. Jim laughed singularly and nodded to the space next to him. Mycroft sat, "We need to undo this." Jim looked at him in surprise. "No, us, we need to go back to being strangers." 

"Mr Holmes, I won't make your life easy. No-one will be safe. Not your family, not your government, not your playmate." Jim almost spat out the last word and could feel Mycroft flinch beside him. 

"I know a lot about you, shrew." 

Jim smirked an almost snarl. "Mr Holmes, you don't even know where I live." 

Mycroft felt a pang of sadness. "The house?" 

Jim looked at him, smugness bursting out of his honestly sad eyes. "Deserted. Demolished. Destroyed." 

Mycroft reflected on the statement before calmly replying, "So, you're finally letting us separate? 

Jim's jaw clenched and his manner was in no way calm. "You come back to me like you should, Mr Holmes. We may not be married, like the little people, but our relationship was until one of us died. You continue with this "Eric" and he'll be dead by the end of the week. Morals aren't your area, Mr Holmes, so leave them alone. Aren't mine, aren't yours. O'Malley's at 10. Be there or something goes boom." 

Mycroft watched as Jim walked away. That conversation had gone better than expected. He'd go to O'Malley's, of course, but the meeting wasn't at 10, it was as soon as Mycroft could make it. He sighed and walked off in the opposite direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O'Malley's? How strange.


	26. Chapter 26

Mycroft walked up to the house he had shared with Jim. True enough, it had been destroyed, all except for a staircase downwards. To Jim's study it was then, he sighed, collecting his thoughts together before descending past the rubble.

Jim was waiting for him behind the door as he closed it. His study, though devoid of computers and paperwork, was still intact. Mycroft had only once been in the room before, but it had been eery then too. Mycroft wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but when Jim jumped up on him, legs curling around is waist, arms entwined behind his neck and lips pressed against his, he was surprised. His body, however, did not pause like his mind and he was kissing back, pressing Jim up against the door, umbrella falling to the floor as his hands found a body to grip and to fumble before he had even blinked. 

Jim grinned, biting onto Mycroft's tongue and before they knew it, once Jim had stopped biting that is, they were having sex on the desk. Mycroft felt glad that the desk was so large when they both rolled apart and neither fell off. 

"Well, thank you Mr Holmes. I think you've made your point quite clear." breathed Jim and Mycroft couldn't help but smile. 

"Mr Moriarty, I do believe our suits need pressing now." 

Jim giggled but then sighed, turning on his side to look at Mycroft. "This really as the last time, wasn't it?" Mycroft nodded, avoiding looking at him. "Myc.. I know our relationship wasn't like the ordinary people but you know I love you, right? In my own way." Mycroft nodded again. "I just needed to be sure we were on the same page." Mycroft tidied himself up without a word. "Your plaything dies in 24 hours time." Jim sounded sad, honestly so. "No more chances, no more warnings. He dies." Mycroft nodded again, feeling like one of those ridiculous bobbleheads. "I'll be seeing you soon, I'm sure. Don't forget me." 

Jim walked to the door, straightening up his suit as he went. He paused before walking up the stairs after pulling the door too and heard Mycroft mutter with full sincerity and more emotion than he'd ever heard from him before: "Never."


	27. Chapter 27

Mycroft sat in the flat opposite Eric's watching. There were just two minutes left for Jim's assurance to become fact. Without meaning to, he found himself holding his breath, the imminent explosion the only thing on his mind. As the hands on his watch struck the top of the hour, Jim's time was up and the building stayed intact, but Mycroft's phone rang making him jump.

He answered it quickly, "Yes?" 

"Sir, there's been a small explosion back at headquarters." Mycroft's eyes widened. "There's only one casualty, he was still alive when they took him in the ambulance but he was asking for you. Something about secrets to the grave. Car waiting for you at it's designated point when you're ready for it, Sir." Mycroft murmured his understanding and hung up. His eyes were cold and steely as he stared back up at Eric's. 

A soft Irish voice spoke from behind him, "Well, I'm not very well going to blow up an empty house, am I?" Mycroft sighed and felt a hand on the back of his head, running it's fingers through the short hairs. 

"He did nothing wrong." 

"He did everything wrong. You'll always be mine, Mr Holmes. A mouse in my trap." Mycroft felt lips press softly against his head, his eyes closed and for the briefest of seconds, his lips twitched in a pout. 

He stood, turning on the spot, but the room was empty. The next act had begun and emotions were, once more, not to be a part of it.


	28. Chapter 28

Eric was now willing to listen to Mycroft, though he was still adamant about not leaving London. Mycroft sat by Eric's bed and having been assured that there were no bugs listening in, felt able to whisper some of his plan to Eric. "You're going to die." Mycroft smiled as Eric started, panicked. "We're going to extract your body. We've found you a new place to live and you'll consider your new job a promotion. We will still interact in a professional manner occasionally, but it will be kept to a minimum. Communication will be fed through correct channels and once everything is in order, we will meet accordingly for the very first time."

Eric stared at him for a long time before speaking, "So, what's my new name?" Mycroft glanced towards the door before taking out a small pocket book and opening it to a specific page. "Really? I don't think I look much like a H-" Mycroft shushed him abruptly. "Of course, apologies. Mycroft?" Mycroft raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Am I free to say anything?" 

Mycroft leant in close and whispered, "It may be your last chance to do so, Eric. Though, please whisper." 

"I'll always love you." Mycroft glanced at the door once more and at all the closed blinds and shutters, before leaning in, giving Eric a soft kiss and then walking away without a word. Eric watched him leave and then sighed. That was the closest to confirming love he'd ever get from Mycroft. "Goodbye." He whispered to the closed door. 

Eric was no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, Mycroft is being really weird right now.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this, it's been a busy few months!

Mycroft had taken the following day off work. That is to say, he didn't go into work and issued a "only phone in emergencies, text as you will but I may not respond" memo. Sometimes, people's reliance on his connections and knowledge tired him. He was more than happy to work almost every single day but sometimes, he wished people weren't so stupid.

He had tried to experience a "lie in" but had awoken at 6am with no hope of continuing to sleep. He watched the news, whilst remaining in his pyjamas and dressing gown, made breakfast and then settled down to read a few of the dozens of emails that had appeared since midnight. By the time he had showered and dressed, it was 7.30am and he sighed. How did people waste their day?

He decided to visit the Isle of Wight, he had a distant cousin who lived there and whilst he wasn't in the mood to socialise, well, he always enjoyed a trip to the quiet and solitude.

Soon enough, he was sitting down to a leisurely lunch with a nice red wine, listening to his cousin talk about the weather. Lunch soon finished and his cousin left him alone to wander the island as he pleased.

Mycroft mused over the Jim situation and how he seemed to be behaving like a grown up at last. Mycroft swore that after today, he'd never allow emotions to govern him again.

He walked down to the shoreline, finding a nice grassy patch to overlook the sea and spread out a blanket. It was awful, lying on the hard ground, barely a centimetre away from the dirt, his smart clothing calling out for mercy and he loved it. Just for a few hours, he didn't have to be himself. He checked his phone, there was nothing urgent so he tried to relax, listening to the soft crash of waves against the rocks far below and watching soft clouds fly off overhead. Nothing could go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, un'beta'd. Next chapter soon hopefully. Much love.


	30. Chapter 30

Nothing went wrong. Mycroft was a little surprised that he had been allowed an actual day off. He caught the train, once back on the mainland, and then caught a minicab home, not to his London flat.

He opened the front door and breathing in the old and familiar smell, thought it had been too long since he was last here. As he closed the door behind him, the sound echoed, reminding him of just how alone he was. He wasn't sure if it was the day of dwelling on problems or whether he'd been holding back a tide of emotions for too long, but his knees gave way and he found himself kneeling on the doormat with a small sob. He told himself firmly off and after a few moments stood up, brushed off the dirt from his knees and walking the short distance to the squishy stool by the phone, promptly let his knees buckle once more. 

He leant backwards, head resting on the wood panelling and stared at the handrail of the staircase. He tried to keep focussing on it, but tears slipped gently down his cheeks and the world became fuzzy. He didn't move an inch, he didn't acknowledge it was happening, just kept staring at the same spot unseeingly. 

After about ten minutes, he stood up and walked blearily upstairs to his bedroom. He closed the door behind him, slipped carefully out of his jacket, climbed onto his bed and yelled into a pillow. His throat felt like it was splitting open, his shirt was taut across his back, and his shoes were leaving a small trail of dirt in contrast to the silky bedcover. He'd never felt more alive. Anger, love, hatred, hilarity and sadness won the battle, coursing through his veins and forcing their way into the world, desperate to have a voice. He rolled onto his back laughing through the terrifying tears and ripped his shirt open. He kicked off his shoes and forced his trousers off, throwing his shirt in the opposite direction. He lay naked on the bed, emotions making him shake as they washed over him. The cacophony of sounds he was making echoed around the room until he fell silent and listened to the Earth at peace. He could feel the natural order and state of mind taking over and he didn't want it. He didn't want the day of freedom to end, so he didn't let it. 

It wouldn't be fair to reveal the chaos and mess that Mycroft created that night. It was fair to say that years of teaching himself to not feel or portray emotions had come undone and the next morning was filled with no regret as he tidied up, but rather a solid resolve to never let emotions win ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, unbeta'd.
> 
> I was kind of nervous about posting this one so I hope you like it...


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay!

Jim was gloating to himself. He'd just had a conversation with the guy behind the shop counter of a certain gun range to arrange a lesson for him with Moran. He decided to dress up for it, so he pulled on some black army style trousers and a tight white top. He err-ed on which jacket to wear before slipping on his black leather one.

When he arrived at the range, the cashier told him to go to the office to sort out paperwork. Moran was sitting with his feet up on the desk, newspaper in hand and a pen being chewed in his mouth. "The chubby sin" he said without looking up. 

"Gluttony?" Moran nodded at Jim's answer, wrote it down and then kept going. "That was an easy one." 

"I know, I was testing your attitude." He said, finally looking up at Jim. "You knew I'd call." 

"Of course." 

"And you want me to call you boss?" 

"Well, I'd like you to help me shoot too." Moran stared at him. 

"Do you fear the gun?" 

"No." 

"Do you fear death?" 

"No, but I have a lot to achieve first." 

"Have you been shot?" 

Jim stared at him, "You've asked enough questions." 

Moran felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He hadn't had that since a commanding officer took him to one side fora bollocking. "If I were to work for you..." 

"You will." Moran clenched his jaw. "We can discuss the finer details later." 

Moran stood up and walked to the front of the desk, trying to reassert his authority. "I'm not cheap." 

"I have money." 

"I'm no whore." He perched on the edge of the desk. Jim took a step towards him until there was barely an inch between them. 

"You will be mine." He poked Moran in the chest and as he continued, he stroked slowly downwards. "You will be loyal. You will be obedient. You will shoot more than you've ever shot in your life and you will enjoy it." His finger had reached Moran's belt, so after a flick, he stroked back up to his chest. 

Moran stared into the brown eyes that seem to look to his very soul and wondered just what Jim was after. He just couldn't quite work out if he was being hired to shoot guns or shoot spunk. He wasn't against sex with guys, they were easy, they didn't want commitment and they could handle a bit of rough and tough. This guy, he looked as if he would break after one punch, but Moran was very much sure that he always got his own way and came out on top. Fuck it, he thought, sex or guns, I'll take both right now. "Still want to shoot a gun?" His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, his mouth had gone dry. 

Jim smiled, reducing the distance between them to a mere centimetre and glancing at Moran's lips. "Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a second attempt as darling technology decided not to rember my first attempt. Hope you like it. 
> 
> Once again, sorry for the delay and thanks for reading.


	32. Chapter 32

As Mycroft walked towards his office, he had a slight spring in his step. His nighttime outburst had done him the world of good and he felt as though Eric and Jim were both in the past and of no emotional impact. He noticed a few people talking in hush tones, which wasn't unusual but it was uncommon. Mycroft assumed it was celebrity nonsense and resolved to read the paper as soon as his schedule permitted. It was only as he turned a corner and 4 people fell silent, glanced at each other and then scarpered that he truly suspected it was more personal. He grabbed the youngest who'd tried to escape past him firmly by the arm and told him to accompany him.

Once in his office, Mycroft calmly closed the door, gestured to the seat in front of his desk and sat in his own. His look clearly said 'speak now and you'll keep your head'. The young man stared at him scared and fingered at the edges of his suit. Mycroft sighed. "Pray, tell me, Wilkins. What is the topic of conversation which has so gripped the entire department?" 

Wilkins eyes widened. "I didn't realise you knew my name, sir." 

Mycroft raised a slight eyebrow. "I know everyone, intimately. You're currently single, you have 5 ex's since beginning your employment here 3 months ago, including 2 work romances. You have 2 children, by 2 different women, yet only support 1 financially. Your last fling was with Jason Daniels, please do not use the stationary cupboard for such things again. Your parents are Mabel and Keith, you have 2 sisters, 1 of whom was arrested at a protest. Should I continue?" 

Wilkins had lost the little colour in his face. "Mr Holmes, sir, I-" 

"Tell me what everyone is discussing." Mycroft interrupted the stammers before they started. 

"They say you were involved with the guy who died, Sir. No-one thought you were.. Well.. I..." 

"Go on." 

"Well, people never thought you were capable of being involved with anyone and certainly not, well, someone-" 

"Male?" 

"No, sir, not that at all, I mean..." 

"Just say it." Mycroft was feeling pangs of annoyance, that wasn't a good sign. 

"Well, he was so.. Ordinary. P-plus he worked here. P-p-people always thought you had a mystery l-lover, sir. You're very, uh, um, well, you're superior and very clever and-" 

"Are you propositioning me?" Mycroft uttered with a straight face, one eyebrow half-raising. Wilkins let out a nervous half-laugh. "Have no fear, Wilkins, that was a joke. I do have a sense of humour." 

"Oh good. I m-mean, o-of course, sir. I mean, no, I wasn't, I mean, I was, uh, I-I was just saying that." Mycroft held up a hand and Wilkins fell gratefully silent. 

"So, people think I have a mystery male lover of superior intellect and had an affair with a mere pleb in the office?" 

"Sir! I didn't, I mean, I'm not a pleb am I?" Mycroft stared at him. "I am a mere pleb, sir." Wilkins felt like the hole he was digging was easily 6 foot deep by now and growing by the second. "I am whatever you say I am, sir." 

"Touched as I am, Wilkins. Kindly vacate this office, return at 17:00, confirming that you have indeed quelled these rumours that I've been in any sort of relationship or related.. situation since working here." Wilkins nodded and practically ran out of the door, shutting it carefully behind him. Mycroft mused at the closed door, that this was exactly the reason he had wanted out of the relationship with Jim and yet, it would not be happening had he not ended it. Tea, he thought, he needed a nice cup of tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To technology: stop losing my chapters! I'm fed up of rewriting. That's two chapters in a row. 
> 
> To you, the reader: thanks for reading.


	33. Chapter 33

Mycroft sat at his desk staring into space, it was almost 17:00 and Wilkins was due to report back to him. The few times he had left the office that day, he'd felt people muttering still. He decided that if it continued, he may have to fire some people via their relevant persons. He needed to reinstate his authority that seemed to have crumbled over night.

There was a soft knock at the door, he called for them to enter and Wilkins shuffled through, closing it behind him. Mycroft gestured to a chair in front of his desk and Wilkins sat tentatively, almost like he was sitting on hot coals. 

Wilkins opened his mouth as though to speak but closed it when nothing came out. Mycroft smiled and Wilkins blushed. "Wilkins, I implore you to speak frankly. I wish to hear everything you have said and heard today." 

He gushed, "Well, Sir, I first talked to my colleagues. I thought that the best approach would be to not be direct but rather to subtly say I think they were wrong and to promote a different rumour. That of course being that you're married to your work and a purely cerebral being that knows all of our lives intimately." 

"That is not a rumour." 

Wilkins paused, looked at Mycroft fully for the first time and spoke carefully. "I don't believe that, Mr Holmes. I believe that the rumour was true." 

"What are people's opinions on both rumours?" 

"They are more believing of the latter but they like you more for the first. People love scandal, love to feel a connection and the idea that you partook in basic human needs.. Well, they think you could've aimed higher than the dead guy, I mean, Eric." 

"Who do they or you suggest?" 

"Well, they think either a Lord or a Cabinet officer at the very least. I ... Well, I think, to put it bluntly, you should shag whoever you choose to. You want to shag a mere pleb like me, lock the door and fuck me to Australia." Mycroft raised his eyebrow. "Unless, of course, you'd rather be fucked to the moon and back?" 

"Mr Wilkins, that sounds awfully as though you've been betting on whether I am easy." 

"Mr Holmes, I'm wounded. I have heard a great many things about you today. Which are fact and which are not is highly debated. You are a man of mystery and if I may continue to speak frankly, Sir? You terrify me. The idea that you or I could touch beyond professional boundaries is..startling." 

Mycroft stared him down. "I understand why you were hired now that you're not snivelling or running for cover." 

Wilkins smiled slightly and blushed. "I believe I shall take that to be a compliment. Sir, if I may be so bold, which is true?" 

"Wilkins, do you expect the truth?" Mycroft replied carefully and received a shake of the head in reply. "Well then, do not ask. Either could be true, or neither or perhaps indeed both. It's just one of life's little mysteries." Mycroft held out his hand gesturing towards the door. 

Wilkins stood awkwardly. "Sir, if you do require a new pleb, friend or even assistance, please call. You can rely on me." He straightened his suit and crossed to the door. He turned the handle and spoke curtly as he pulled door open. "Good day, Mr Holmes." He pulled the door shut behind him, walked efficiently to a bathroom and locked himself in a cubicle. Mycroft Holmes was terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know who Wilkins is, but he'll probably pop up again. I wonder what Jim is up to.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Unbetad.


	34. Chapter 34

Mycroft had headed home soon after Wilkins had left his office. He had considered tea at the Diogenes Club but even the idea of that felt too consuming for his brain. Leaving the bustle of London felt good and as he closed the heavy front door behind him, he smiled at the small echo in the entrance hall. He headed straight to his bedroom where he changed down into silk pyjamas and dressing gown. He paused before slipping into some fluffy slippers that Jim had purchased him as a half-joke and headed downstairs to the drinks cabinet. He mused to himself that he'd been drinking a great deal of late and should probably make tonight his last for some time. Alcohol was not kind to the logical reasoning and exceptional standards he expected of his brain.

As he poured a glass of brandy, he heard the front door open and familiar footsteps pad towards him. He poured another glass and held it out without looking. He perched himself on the sofa and only spoke once Jim had lain his head upon his lap, curled up like a cat. "I'm not surprised." 

"Whoever knew emotions were so tricky?" 

"This is why we avoid them." 

"I embrace them." 

"You mimic them." 

"Inhabit." 

"I see little difference." 

"I wanted to talk to you." 

"Weren't receiving good enough answers from yourself?" 

"I'm refusing to answer or question." 

"Tell me what's wrong." 

"I miss you." 

"I know." 

"I didn't realise how much effect that could have. Why do people do it? Why are they so stupid?" 

"It is unfortunate." 

"Can we stay like this?" 

"We have until the sun comes up and the working day begins." 

Jim sat up slightly, drained his brandy and curled back up. Mycroft lay a hand softly on his chest and felt Jim hold onto it. Tonight would be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure where this came from, so I'm intrigued to see what happens!


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this feels a little out of character... Good, it is and that's the point... I have no idea what the boys are going to do after this chapter but I expect to catch up with them around dawn...

So called "normal ex-couples" may have had drunken sex and never spoken again, however neither Mycroft nor Jim had ever been called "normal".

After an hour had passed in pure silence, though a whole bottle of brandy had been drunk, they played a quick game of mental chess (which Mycroft won) and decided to play some childish games. 

They started with hide and seek, a simple game that resulted in shivering for an hour by Jim and a rapid heartbeat from Mycroft after finding him fully submerged in a bath full of cold water. 

Next, they moved on to hangman, except they almost hung themselves. Apparently using secret government codes as answers was tricky when they're only three characters long. 

Laughing to themselves that Mycroft had failed to guess "ABC" and had hung himself, having to be let down by Jim's swiftly hacking with a ceremonial sword, they ended up in a crumpled mess and snogging, to put it bluntly. Jim suggested a game of Seventh Heaven but Mycroft opted for Blind mans buff, literally in the buff. (Jim insisted he keep the fluffy slippers on though) 

It's fair to say that under all the games and unspoken words, a lot was being said and a lot explored. Regression and frivolity was the only way they felt able to communicate on matters beyond mere intellectual thought that night.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Impressively forgot I had posted the last chapter and in my personal records, this chapter is actually part of the last... It works alone too but...

That was until about 4am. Mycroft's house had a little secret garden, where trees all but covered a small patch of sky and many bonfires had been burnt, and this is where they found themselves with a couple of blankets and cushions. By the crackling, enthusiastic fire, the evening turned serious.

Mycroft sat crosslegged on a cushion, Jim sat in his lap and they had a big blanket wrapped around them both. Mycroft sighed into Jim's neck, half content and half a broken man. 

"Mycroft?" Jim mused and feeling a soft murmur into his neck he continued. "What would you say if I told you that this had been my mission all along? That when we met the mission was altered and I had to win you and break you." Mycroft said nothing and not a muscle moved in response. Jim continued on. "And even when I took over from my boss and then his boss, I kept loyal to that mission." 

Mycroft spoke softly and honestly, "Then, I would say that you're lying to yourself." 

"Not you?" Jim questioned, tensing a little. 

"For you to lie to me, you must first know the truth. Dishonesty has always been part of the deal with you, I expect it, but oversight of lies, that is something I cannot assist with." 

They stared at the fire in silence until Jim half-croaked, coughed and tried again. "I think it's a mission I've set in the bottom of my heart. I will bring you down Mr Holmes, I will bring you down." 

"Many have tried, James, many have tried. The British Government, the Holmes Family, and I remain steadfast. You, however, are so changeable in your manner and very being, that you will never win. You may try, but you will fail. We will prevail." 

"You should give speeches and go into advertising." 

"I am being very serious." 

"So, am I." 

They stared at the fire, neither letting go of the other, in fact, both held on slightly tighter. 

Jim broke the silence. "We should have brought marshmallows." Mycroft made the decisive move and chucked the blanket off of them, spreading it over the cushions and slid Jim off of his lap onto it. Jim half-gasped, smirking, "Mr Holmes, destroy me." Mycroft was drunk enough and emotionally frustrated enough to give in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've nearly finished the next one so you won't have to wait too long. Work has been particularly time consuming of late, my apologies. 
> 
> Unbetad, thanks for reading. You rock.


	37. Chapter 37

A couple of hours later when the sunrise and twittering birds woke them, Mycroft felt very grateful for the fire still providing a small amount of heat to their bare bodies and also that his house was far from any other houses. He was very unmistaken in the belief that they had not been quiet during the blanket ruffling. He was also relieved that the foliage above meant that satellite imagery was unlikely to exist. He would still double, triple and quadruple check his quintruple check on this matter, as always, but he was certain enough to not worry unduly at this time.

Jim stared at the dewy grass and the occasional dusting of ash and refused to acknowledge what waking meant. He'd aired a fair amount before and during the final hoorah and he was a little nervous what Mycroft might say. His mind recalled choice statements as "Your work, like mine always came first. We do not live life, we breathe work, work is our very being." And "You are the South Pole to my North pole and we can never see eye to eye." Drunk Jim says stupid things, he thought to himself, why do I let Jim drink? And as he mused on thinking to himself in the third person, he decided to have an existential crisis. He closed his eyes and drifted skywards, imagining an out of body experience. He saw Mycroft's body curled against his, hand draped across his chest and the same non-acknowledging of the moment look that clearly said "It is time." His imaginings were broken when Mycroft kissed his neck softly and knelt up, breaking away from him. Jim half-sulked despite himself and sat up, clutching his knees. 

Mycroft placed one hand softly on Jim's shoulder and just as softly spoke, "The sun is up." 

Jim held onto his hand, "The working day has not yet begun." 

"As you yourself stated: "We breathe work."" Mycroft looked him in the eye. "There is nothing more to be said and nothing more to be done. Farewell, Mr M-." Mycroft faltered. "James... Jim?" The name felt slightly foreign as he spoke. "I have learnt a great deal from you during our time, and about myself too, but I will never trust you and if you contact me once we have both left these premises shortly, then it will be as when we first met, with code names and representing opposing forces." 

"We're too similar, My." 

"Not from this point forward. I am the British government and I will bring you down, no matter how hard I have to fall." 

"You can fall in more ways than one." 

"Indubitably." 

"I will win." 

"This is bigger than just you and I." 

"Always remember that it was you that walked away from us and the simultaneous harmony we created between our sides." 

"Harmony does not kill innocent children, James." 

"Because you know all about harmony within a family." 

"Good day, Mr Moriarty." 

Jim stared at him before replying to Mycroft's icy tone. "We're very similar, you and I. I just learnt how to express myself and my emotions." 

"That's hardly what I'd call them." 

"They are emotions and I use them as my heart's fire." 

"Your heart is ice." 

Jim's eye blazed through slight watering that one could almost mistake for almost crying. "My heart was yours and you are ice but I burn now and I will burn everything you care about. 

Mycroft stared at him. "You sound like a spoiled child." 

"You broke my toy; this relationship.. Of course it hurts." 

"The world keeps turning. Emotions are an illusion. Logic is all that exists." 

Jim stood abruptly. "Well, I don't agree. I think people are-" he paused recalling Mycroft's words ""changeable" and I relish it. I am a chameleon." Jim practically hissed at him before storming off. 

Mycroft watched him go. There was a file at work that needed updating and he finally acknowledged that he could not continue to hide certain knowledge. An "anonymous" source was about to rip open the case on the criminal underworld. Even if it required some undercover work to do so. Mycroft looked down at the glowing embers and the light ash beginning to drift in a gentle wind. It felt rather appropriate that the relationship ended with fire. Like a mini-Vesuvius...Just so long as neither London nor Britain became their Pompeii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a little uncertain with the end of this chapter. It's what happens whenever I come back to one a little while later.. But I had a certain pool scene ringing in my head not helped by "Stayin Alive" playing in my headphones. Plus, when I saying playing, it's not quite on repeat.. But only by one other song. Literal playlist of two songs. I'll also add that, as is my habit, I wrote and vaguely edited the second half on a train and I'm a pretty visual responder on facial expressions and the girl opposite me was totally smiling as she watched my half-mouthing of words with an Irish twang such as "burn" and "changeable"... I'd love your feedback as always and of course, Unbetad. Much love to you.


End file.
